Built From The Fire

2

Annabeth was beginning to worry, and she didn't worry very often. She was pretty skilled at sorting through her anxious thoughts of doom, finding the truth and fixing the problems; however, when it came to Percy, worry was a familiar feeling.

She didn't know what was taking so long. They had agreed to meet at a quaint café, after their patrols had finished at 1:00. They were just supposed to be passing through on their way to Seattle. Chiron had said there was a group of demi-gods somewhere in Seattle, he couldn't pinpoint the exact location.

Percy had the stupid idea, as usual, to take a little detour at the last minute.

"Come on, Wise Girl," Percy had nudged her in her side, "it'll be fun! We've been at this for weeks, and I've always wanted to go to Washington. It's beautiful here."

Annabeth had given her a look, her arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Percy continued poking her best friend. "There's a beach!" She sang. "You can study the tiny little ecosystems like I know you love to do." Percy wagged her black eyebrows and gave her that notorious lopsided grin that always haunted Annabeth's nightmares.

That grin had gotten them into so much trouble.

Annabeth conceded after 20 minutes of poking. The idea of exploring the wilderness and its creatures intrigued her as always.

Annabeth checked her watch again. 2:14. Percy was always late, but she was rarely this late. They were supposed to head to the beach after grabbing a bite to eat. Percy was always hungry. She knew she wouldn't just skip this and not let her know, especially when she was sure that Percy knew her best friend worried about her all the time.

Another hour passed.

Annabeth was pacing back and forth.

Another hour.

She shook her head and got into their car. She would drive around. Look to see if maybe Percy was walking along the side of a road, or possibly in a ditch—no.

Annabeth stopped herself. She would not let her mind go there. If she didn't find Percy during her drive, an iris message directly to Chiron and Grover would be her next step.

Yes, plan it out, she told herself. You'll find her.

"Hades, Seaweed Brain," she cursed as she pulled out of the café parking lot and onto the narrow two-way street.

——

Leah stared at her imprint. She was angry, she tried to help it, but she couldn't. She was angry.

No, angry wasn't the right word.

Leah was confused, scared, hurt, furious, concerned, anxious. The list went on. Excited was at the bottom, but it was still there. Hopeful was even lower.

Hurt. This feeling was not new to her. She had felt hurt over too many times to count over the past year. Sam dumping her without notice, imprinting on her cousin, her best friend. Not choosing her. Her father, dying so suddenly. Leah felt responsible. They told her she wasn't. It wasn't her fault. She didn't believe them. It still hurt. Her pack's obvious feelings towards her; they couldn't stand to be around her, a boy's club.

Confusion. Why is it this girl? Why now? What was this girl? Leah had no answers. No one did. The Quileutes have never figured out why they imprint or why it is a certain person. And this girl—what a bowl of water did to her? What was that?

Scared. She was scared for her imprint; the girl had yet to awake from her slumber. It had been hours. She was scared of what this imprint meant. What would she need to be for her? Would it hurt her in the end? She was terrified of the possibility of rejection.